


As lights Go Out In Private Quaters

by sherlocked221



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fanart, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Unspoken Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of five short stories about five of our friends on the Enterprise having a bit of fun in their quarters.<br/>Chekov<br/>McCoy<br/>Kirk<br/>Scotty<br/>Spock</p>
            </blockquote>





	As lights Go Out In Private Quaters

**Author's Note:**

> If I've made any mistakes, let me know. It's my first really dirty story so...

**Chekov**

“Sulu…”

Chekov rolled onto his back, his hand tugging at the zip of his fly under the crimson duvet. As he got it loose and pulled down the flared black trousers hugging his thighs, he closed his eyes, imagining skilled fingers at work. His own shook as they addressed the bulge poking through the silver boxers around his hips. He knew, if the helmsman were there, he’d be confidently cupping it tightly.

And he’d kiss the young, already out of breath Ensign to comfort him. He was quite shaken, unexperienced and unsure. Of course, he’d touched himself before but only to get it out of his system for a while. Just because it felt good, that was all. Now, he was firmly grasping his awake member because sitting next to one of the first men Chekov had ever found sexy was getting to him. He remembered when Sulu’s hand slipped off the desk and rested between his legs. Just sitting there, unmoving but Chekov had found himself staring throughout the day, having to force his eyes away every so often so he could do his job. It was too hot to handle. He remembered that moment when the Enterprise had taken a hit, sending the two men flying across the floor before landing, Sulu on top of Chekov. They’d hesitated a bit too long before apologising politely and trying to get back up again. Despite how awkward it felt in the moment, now, it was fantasy fuel.

“Oh my goshhhh, Sulu!”

He could imagine Sulu writhing on top of him, being gentle and careful. Who cared if anyone could see, if the whole bridge’s eyes watched, they wanted each other and it was happening in that moment. He imagined Kirk’s face staring surprised down at them as they moaned loudly like no one else could hear. But really, he was ok with it. The Captain had probably done much worse when more people were watching. He could imagine Sulu running his fingers through his hair, grasping it and guiding his lips up to kiss him, moaning into his mouth.

“I love you… w… wery much.”

His hand pumped harder under the covers, his eyes squeezing shut tight until finally, he cried out Sulu’s name over and over again. It felt so good that he lost himself completely in the fantasy. Oh, Spock’s face when both men laying sprawled out, messing the nice clean floor in their moment of passion. Kirk half smiling at everyone else’s disgust or surprise and Dr McCoy with his head on the Captain’s shoulder in fits of laughter.  And Chekov would be burying his head in Sulu’s neck, breathing him in as the last wave of pleasure subsided.

“Yessss, yes… Sulu, please.”

He lay there for a moment, his eyes closed until it felt stupid. Egh, wet, cold and messy but he wasn’t exactly regretting anything. Shakily, he stood up and ripped the cover off the main duvet, throwing it in the laundry chute. Despite the after feelings of this, Chekov didn’t give doing it again a second thought, especially when he got back to his post the next day and the helmsman sitting next to him winked as he sat down. Something began stirring beneath his trousers… yet again.

 

**McCoy**

Ohhhh, McCoy had needed this. Spock hadn’t been very easy on him. Not knowingly, of course. How would a Vulcan understand that if he turned up in Sickbay wearing the standard black undershirt hugging his beautifully slim body that it would turn on the Doctor performing a physical on him to no end? But really, did he not see that he was fantastically handsome? It couldn’t be that hard to overlook. He was slim but muscular, his face perfectly defined and who didn’t secretly adore his pointed ears. McCoy wondered what they might feel like if he sucked on them.

“Damn Vulcan!” He exclaimed, exasperated that he was thinking about the man who fought with him all the time. He had totally conflicting opinions and they weren’t changing until he was physically proved wrong. Maybe that was what McCoy liked, to be overpowered, dominated. He suddenly had the image of Spock, fully dressed, standing over McCoy who was tied to a bar overhead, naked. He felt exposed, even under the watchful eye of the Vulcan who he actually loved. He’d never felt so worried about his body, it was nothing special and it never really bothered him. But to have Spock look down, appreciatively at it though, he felt something of consciousness about the dark hair on his chest or the slight chubbiness of his stomach. He was reasonable thin, or so he thought, he wasn’t exactly toned at all. Maybe this fantasy wasn’t the most enticing.

He rested his head back and pursed his lips. Usually it wasn’t this hard to fantasise. Perhaps he wasn’t as turned on as he thought. He looked down at himself, part of him disagreed with that, standing tall in his hand. Alright, just a while longer. He closed his eyes again and just touched his hard member, hoping that would be enough. His mind idly wandered, however, back to the thought of Spock tying him up. It could be that subconsciously, he wanted that feeling of vulnerability but overthinking this wasn’t his best idea. He just allowed the thought to play out.

Spock’s hand grasped a riding crop when he next looked at it and dragged it softly along McCoy’s jaw and side, tickling his sensitive skin. He replicated this with his spare index finger in real life. Oh, _here we go_. Spock knelt down next to him and pressed his hips against McCoy’s stomach, a lump in his trousers poking him hard.

“You are mine, Leonard.” He whispered harshly, slapping him with the crop. McCoy moaned both in reality and in his dream at that.

“Yours, Spock… Yours.” He repeated picking up the pace, his breathing getting heavier. His fantasy switched to Spock behind him, his lips hovering over his ear. He pretended that the harsh ragged breathing out of his own mouth is Spock. What did he sound like moaning? Did he ever even lose control to that point? Spock hunched over him, holding McCoy’s chest, keeping him close. He wasn’t going to last long if it continued the way it was. Spock was thrusting like he was out of his mind, sweating and flushed green. His beautiful ears were green topped too.

“Ahhhhh, Spock…. Spock… Spock!” He buckled, arching and crying, imagining Spock following him into a wave of heat. It fell down his back and pooled in his stomach tightly while his fantasy faded away just as the beautiful, hot Vulcan pulls away and drags McCoy down with him. No one had made him feel that good in years.

 

**Kirk**

Boiling water sprayed down onto Kirk’s now reddening body as he lathered his hair up in shampoo. His muscles ached after the full physical down in Sickbay, it felt perfect to massage the sweet smelling shower gel into his skin and rinse it over with the slightly too hot water to get rid of the pain. McCoy had really pushed him hard down there, spending around half an hour doing exercises while the Doctor called out what he was doing wrong or what he had to do next. Occasionally, McCoy discarded his rank and made Kirk feel as though he was a lieutenant following a commander’s orders, even though he was the Captain. Sometimes he wished he could bend him over the office desk just to get back at him.

Mmm, that would be nice actually, to teach him a lesson about respecting those above him, even when he’s doing his job. Thoughts circulated in his mind like; maybe he should spank McCoy. Then every time he moved for weeks he’d get that bruised feeling on his arse that would remind him of their lesson and if Kirk knew him well enough, he knew that McCoy wouldn’t risk another beating. Then again there were other things he could do to make his arse hurt for ages and right now, he’d prefer to do that. His hands begun to slide down to the mess of blond hair around his crotch. McCoy bent over a desk, reaching out behind him to find Kirk’s thighs and drag him closer. But Jim wouldn’t let him, he’d be painfully slow, taking McCoy’s hands and securing them behind his back. He was sure the Doctor would curse under his ragged breath but he’d smack him hard. Yeah, that would shut him the hell up. He might kiss his shoulders, just to tease him, to be so close and have no way of beginning without Kirk’s permission. Even then, Jim did have all the control. He’d take his precious time before slowly thrusting into McCoy, listening to each moan appreciatively.

Kirk looked down at himself, oh he wished he had McCoy with him at that moment. He’d whisper in his ear and press him up on the cold glass of the shower. He realised, as he ran his fingers over his crotch, he’d gone from one fantasy another. He’d never known how much he liked the Doctor. Maybe that might be weird when he next saw McCoy. Then again, he’d dealt with crushes before. He was notorious for having girls throwing themselves at him but no one knew that he practically threw himself at others. He wasn’t exactly discrete whist flirting. He used to flirt with Spock all the time and got told to stop by both the Vulcan and Doctor McCoy who’d noticed a couple of times. Since then, he’d been able to keep his infatuations at bay.

Oh, he remembered those times when he’d do this over Spock. Wishing he could beckon him over while he was at his station. Get Spock to straddle him as he sat in the Captain’s chair and placed his hand on the Vulcan’s hips, dragging them back and forth. He’d teach him how to make love and why he used to flirt. Great, now he’d touched himself over two of his best friends.

But that barely crossed his mind. He could feel pleasure building up in his stomach to the point that reality melted away and only the spray of the shower was left.

“Fu… McCoy… Spooock” He muttered before collapsing onto his knees into a thin layer of water that had been collecting at the bottom of the shower. Yeah, it was going to be weird tomorrow.

 

**Scotty**

Scotty loved the Enterprise like it was a woman. She had her moments when she was a little crazy, but better moments when Scotty would secretly whisper ‘I could kiss you.’ Some had said she was the only woman that he really loved and, it was true. Yeah, it might get a little weird when he would lay in his quarters and openly chat to her but who was listening? What, even he had to admit, was strange was when he’d get just slightly turned on up in his quarters when he could hear the ship change warp speed. It was a very quiet sound that anyone would miss but he’d spent so long getting to know each and every movement that it was impossible not to hear. Why it turned him on, he’ll never know but just sometimes, the sound would go straight to his crotch.

Like this moment. He thought it was the equivalent of her moaning, enjoying his pleasure. She could always see him and she always knew what he was doing. That idea made him gasp as his wandering hands smoothed down to take off his black boxers. He wasn’t under the duvet, he wanted his Enterprise to see everything and enjoy as he kicked his pants off the bed.

If the Enterprise was a woman, he imagined she’d have a soft, high pitched voice because of all the beeps she made when people pressed her buttons. He had to chuckle. _Pressed her buttons,_ he’d like to do that. She’d walk gracefully because of how effortlessly she passed through the air. She’d always wear a fitting metallic jumpsuit and have long blonde hair. Why blonde? Because he didn’t particularly like grey or white hair, despite that being the colour of her outside. But she had to have a light colour obviously, to be close enough.

She’d be very skilled but need him. Need him to love and care for her, to get her to work every day and _push all her buttons._ On second thoughts, he’d do that at night. He chuckled, breathlessly, again. Oh yes, he’d woo the lass at night, have a nice dinner, flirt with her, make her feel good before he took her over to the bed. He’d pour her a glass of the best drink he had and curl up with her on the edge of the mattress. He didn’t want to move to fast but fast was what she did best, both in real life and as a hypothetical woman. They’d end up kissing and touching, lying back and taking off what clothes weren’t needed. Her skin would be smooth and pale under her tight fitting all-in-one.

“You’d like that wouldn’t ye my bonnie lass? Being mine?” He asked, half gasping as he opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He’d forgotten about her eyes. If she was watching, they must have a colour, and if she was human. Soft grey or bright blue. Either one staring down at him as he pleasured himself, speaking to her.

“Ahh that feels good.” He admitted, slowly beginning to lose control. If she was a human and she was in his room, those grey/blue eyes would be rolling back as she too was reaching the end.

“Oh Enterprise my lovely. If only… if only…” He lay back and crawled under the duvet. He’d clean up in the morning, it was too much effort at the moment and he wanted to sleep with the thought of his beautiful Enterprise next to him.

 

**Spock**

_Deep breath in, deep breath out. Logical, of course. The best and most logical way of meditation is to focus solely on breathing so that the mind does not wander._ If he was allowed to call it such, this was Spock’s favourite time of the day. It was quiet. That was the best thing. Silence, a time to reflect or forget the day and remember his training on Vulcan. He’d rather forget when he went into Sickbay, wearing the black shirt he knew McCoy liked but playing with the Doctor was one of the fun parts of having this job. While his Vulcan side denied he ever enjoyed it and he knew it went almost completely against his training, there was something amusing about watching McCoy sweat as he tried to continue a physical.

Well, Spock could’ve been angry at himself but that was a human emotion. He found that he was aroused after thinking about Doctor McCoy. Instead of humanly losing his rag, he just sighed and tried to meditate down his stiff member. He hadn’t had to do it before but he’d been able to meditate other things away like sickness.

_Breathe in, hold it there until, breathe out. Repeat, slowly. Pause longer each time between each breath._

He must’ve spent ten minutes like this before opening his eyes and looking down at his still tight trousers. This was going to be harder than he thought. He started again, distracting himself with the correct instructions but something was nagging in the back of his mind. He could not feel anything change but that he was becoming more and more frustrated by the minute so, to try and concentrate, the logical thing to do would be address the problem.

Doctor McCoy; that was who he was thinking about. What was so good about him that it had such a powerful effect on him? He was too emotional, caught up in the delusions of anger, happiness, sadness, the list could go on. He was also very grumpy, constantly complaining and cursing.

But, he was very kind-hearted, Spock couldn’t help but admit that. He was a good friend to Kirk often being the person he could talk to when there was no one else. Spock couldn’t do that because he couldn’t understand many of the human feelings Kirk would need advice on dealing with. McCoy could give the Captain that boost of confidence and hold his hand when he needed it. Stand by anyone who he cared for. The Doctor had even stood by Spock at times; for example during Pon Farr. He only wanted to help. The best way he probably could’ve was to have sex with him. That way he wouldn’t have all that sexual tension building up inside him and the ancient drive would be passed by easily.

What a peculiar thought, Spock being penetrated by Doctor McCoy. It seemed to make his arousal worse, however, so he tried to move on. After all, he had addressed the situation and was now aware of his lust for the Doctor.

_Breathe in and out. Pause for as long as you can. Breathe in… pause again, out, pause again._

Would the Doctor prefer to bottom? Spock’s mind suddenly drifted from his meditation with this question. He wondered, just for a second if he’d prefer top or bottom. To trust McCoy either to tell him what to do or to have him do it. That was a difficult option. He did trust him, but to tell him what to do? He didn’t think he’d enjoy taking orders from the Doctor. It would also be nicer, maybe, to surrender and lie back in wait for the Doctor to pleasure him. Yes, Spock would like to be penetrated.

But that was not what he should be thinking about in that moment. He scolded himself for wandering yet there was not much chance that this was going to work. Frustrated, he stood up, unzipped his trousers, pulled them off along with his scarlet boxers and sat back down, cross-legged. If he was going to get rid of this properly, he had to touch his still tall member and, while it felt uncomfortable, the thought of McCoy made him feel ok as he ran his hand up and down. Actually, it felt quite pleasurable. He thought of the Doctor’s own hand doing what his was and for the first time in forever, he moaned passionately. It wasn’t as stupid as he had once thought, he liked it, in fact. He began thrusting his hips up hard, McCoy’s name at the tip of his tongue. His cheeks began to colour green and his controlled breathing had become long and ragged. It was now understandable why humans considered this a worthwhile pass time.

“Doctor, this feels… extr…eamly… pleasurable.” He cried, doubling over his knees and spilling over his blue shirt. When he sat back up, he removed the shirt and threw it into the laundry chute, taking no time to think about what he had just done. He then lay down in his bed, covered his trembling body in the duvet and curled up against a pillow.

“Lights; off.”


End file.
